Uncharted
by xforeverdeen
Summary: Katniss Everdeen is trying to put her life back together after the Rebellion, but she's such a broken mess that she feels as if she can never be whole again. Can she find herself again? Or will she lose herself even more? Post-Mockingjay.Pre-Epilogue. Rating may change.
1. Haunting Past

A/N: Hey guys! xforeverdeen here! This is my first Hunger Games fan fic. But I am no stranger to writing or fan fiction. I have done my best to do Katniss Everdeen and Suzanne Collins justice, because sadly, The Hunger Games is not my creation. This is mainly an Everlark story. But I do have some Fannie, Abertrinket and a surprise pairing for you all! Please enjoy!

Chapter One

"Haunting Past"

My fingers are gripping around the smooth, sleek wood of the arch of my bow; one hand is keeping my arrow locked. My aim is perfect. The arrow is ready to be released. All I have to do is let go of it, and that rabbit, the one that is perfectly in my view, will be mine. One hit.

I'm not sure why I'm hesitating. I can almost hear a far too familiar voice whispering in my ear, "Do it, Catnip. What are you waiting for?"

I quickly blink my eyes, trying to push the thought away from my mind. Where did that come from? Why do I continue to miss Gale when he wants nothing to do with me anymore? I suppose it can't really be helped, Gale was my best friend after all.

I return my focus back to the issue at hand, the rabbit, the one that is a mere twenty feet away, obliviously eating the grass that is sprouting from the forest floor. An easy kill. I slowly start to release my fingers. That rabbit is as good as dead. It'll make a great dinner for the night.

Just as I'm about to make the shot, there is a loud rustle somewhere in the distance. The rabbit, that had been so clueless just a minute before, was suddenly alert, and just as fast as it was there, it was gone. I groan. So much for dinner. I hear someone yelling. They are too far away for me to recognize the voice, or to make out what they are saying. I feel anger start to brew in the pit of my stomach. Doesn't this person understand that being loud in the woods chases all the game away?

I know deep down that I really shouldn't be angry at this person, whoever it is, they're obviously not a hunter or they wouldn't be crashing around in the woods like a giant destroying a city. That's when it hits me.

Peeta.

I lower my bow, removing the arrow from its place on the string and tucking it securely back into the sheath. Once I finish this task, I pull up my jacket sleeve to check the time on my watch. It's eight.

No wonder Peeta is looking for me. I told him that I would be back an hour and a half ago. I'm so stupid. I should've been paying better attention to the time. The last thing Peeta needs is stress. Worrying could cause him to have an attack. How selfish of me to not check the time.

"Katniss!" Peeta's voice is clearer now. Even though he's still far away, it's not hard to hear the worry in his voice. I know that Peeta knows he shouldn't worry, that I can take out anything or anyone with my bow and arrow, but the fact that I wasn't back on time must've set his nerves on edge. I'm always back when I say I will be. I know what it does to him if I'm not.

"I'm over here, Peeta!" I call back. I shoulder my sheath and my bow before I start walking towards him. It's at a slight jog, maybe if I get to him quickly, it won't be as like to trigger an attack. I hope that I'm not too late.

It isn't long before he's within my sight. He sees me and it's like he's running for the Cornucopia in the arena. He reaches me within no time. I'm instantly wrapped in a tight hug.

"Katniss, I was so worried," he whispers. I can hear the relief in his voice. Our bodies are pressed so close together that I can feel his heart beating. He really was worried. If he hadn't found me when he did, I'm positive that he would've had an attack.

I slip my arms back around him, returning the tight hug he has me locked in. I'm not much for affection with Peeta, at least not yet. I never initiate it. I barely receive it the way that I should, but I can see that Peeta needs this. I won't deny him that.

Peeta's muscles seem to relax when I hug him back. He had been so tense just a moment before. My closeness, just knowing I was safe did that to him. Why did that frighten me so much?

"You didn't have to get worried," I whisper. What am I supposed to say? How can I apologize for this? I know what it can do to him. All I could think about was an escape, getting away from my problems and I wasn't thinking of Peeta. I'm so selfish. I'm not sure what Peeta sees in me, even though he chooses to tell me as often as he can.

He simply grips me tighter. I can feel the ripples in his muscles as they unflex for a moment before curling around my body again. He stays silent for awhile. All I can hear is the sound of my own breathing, in sync with Peeta's, the sounds of animals rustling the leaves nearby, the soft night calls of birds coming out. The sun is setting. We need to head home soon, but I don't push Peeta. I just let him have his moment.

"I know," he finally mutters. His voice is so quiet, still so full of relief. "But, I've almost lost you too many times before. I was scared when you didn't come back on time."

My defenses instantly seem to fall. He breaks down part of that wall like only he can. Peeta is the only person that knows how to hit on my emotions just right. I still haven't decided if that's a good thing or not.

"I'm so sorry, Peeta," I whisper. I can hear the shame in my voice. I feel awful. What if he had worried himself into an attack? No one would have been around to help him. Haymitch has taken a trip into the Capitol for the week. I had no clue what for, but I could strangle him for leaving Peeta and I alone in the Victor's Village for seven days. He'd been gone for three. He had four more days to go.

"No, don't worry about it, Katniss. You're alive, you're safe. That's all that matters," he mutters. His grip around me doesn't let up any. I actually think it tightens again.

"No, that's not all that matters, Peeta," I say. I pull myself from his grasp. Of course my temper would get the best of me in this moment, when Peeta needed me to just surrender to my emotions for a minute. But, like always, I didn't want to show them, I couldn't stand the affection for long. "I should have been checking the time. Do you know that because I let you get so stressed that you could have had an episode and it would have been all my fault?"

I turn my back to him. I feel that tears might fall at any given moment. I don't want Peeta to see if they do. I don't like crying, especially in front of other people, it makes me feel weak. I'm not weak. I won't show any sign of it unless I can absolutely help it. And when I'm around Peeta? It seems that my weaknesses like to show themselves.

"Katniss," he says. His voice is firm. I want to laugh, but I fight to hold it in. Does he really think that tone isgoing to change the way I feel? He's tried that so many times, to change my opinion. Doesn't he know me well enough by now to know that's not how I work? I'm not one to succumb to anyone, or anything. I never have been. Not even the Rebellion, or Peeta could change that.

"Do you honestly think that?" he asked. He was trying to portray that same firm, strong tone he had been using only moments before. I wasn't surprised that it was faltering. Peeta could never use a tone on me for very long that wasn't of love, affection, endearment or sincere in some way. Peeta's resolve was never there with me.

"Of course I think that, Peeta!" I exclaim. I hear the snapping of branches, the rustle and flapping of wings. Great. I had scared off what game Peeta hadn't managed to. I couldn't help it, though. Sometimes my anger, my feelings got the best of me. It always seemed at the most inappropriate times too. They never wanted to show themselves when I was in the privacy of my own home, or even my own room. They always seemed to be in front of someone. I remember a time when I was so in control of my emotions. I don't know what broke me. I don't know what turned me into the person I am today. The thing was, I was too stubbron to deal with it.

After the Rebellion, I immediately threw myself into helping everyone else. I didn't want to think about everything that had happened. I still don't. I didn't want to have time to miss Prim, my mom, Gale, or Finnick. I don't take the time now, even though it's been a few months. I just pretend that it didn't happen. Forgetting seems to be very easy for me sometimes, but there are other times that everything comes back to me. Little things can set me off. A look from someone in town, a touch from Peeta that I wasn't expecting, a certain tone that he could use, little, miniscule things can throw me off the pedestal of emotions that I am constantly balancing on.

Peeta instantly senses that he has said the wrong thing, or used the wrong tone on me. He takes a step back. Dealing with me when my emotions are set on edge is Peeta's equivalent on me when he has an attack. It's nowhere near as emotionally draining or terrifying. But, I was never hijacked by the Capitol, so I can't really say that he will ever have to experience that. I would never wish it on him either.

"It wouldn't be your fault, Katniss," I hear him whisper. All though, I'm not sure it was a whisper. My hearing, my vision, my breathing process, none of my senses seem to be working properly. I feel like my body is shutting itself down, like it was getting ready to cancel the world out. I know I'm getting ready for a breakdown. Great. Just great. Breaking down in front of Peeta is not an option. I can't let him see me that way.

"Don't." I hiss in response.

Peeta stops in his tracks. He wasn't expecting to hear a venomous response in return. But what could I do? It was all that my body would allow me to get out. I guess it's the combination of me trying to keep my breathing steady, and fighting as hard as I possibly can to hold in my tears. I don't like feeling this weak.

"Katniss, it's okay."

I jump when he speaks this time. Peeta has decided to be brave and venture over to me when I wasn't paying attention. I don't object as he slips my bow and sheath of arrows off of my back, shouldering them himself. I don't say anything when he slips his arms around my waist and begins to lead us back to the house. The times when my emotions get the best of me like this, are the only times that I don't shy away from Peeta, from affection. I'm not talking about kissing, or hand holding, or anything that would seem normal of any couple. No, I hardly ever give Peeta that luxury unless he is having a particularly bad day, or an episode which I feared he might not recover from. No, I mean affection like the kind you give to someone you care about when they are sick, or hurt. I let Peeta do things for me, I let him take the lead when I need it be. I let him lead me home, tuck me in, make me dinner, whatever he deems necessary. I hate it. I hate it because the fact that he feels he needs to do these things for me, makes me feel weak, and, like I've mentioned, I hate feeling weak, being weak. Peeta doesn't know the reason behind my outbursts. He doesn't know that I'm not dealing with everything: the Games, the Rebellion; what the grieving has truly done to me. He thinks I'm doing well. The fact that he only ever sees me go off every now and then makes him believe that it's only once in a while. If only he knew that I cried myself to sleep nearly every night unless I could convince myself that I was strong enough to handle it. If only he knew how often I still had nightmares. Only, they aren't really nightmares. They are memories. Things that I was actually unfortunate enough to witness. I can see them every time I close my eyes. I can see all of the people I killed. Glimmer's bloated body, Marvel falling to the ground, an arrow lodged in his neck, Cato begging for mercy from the mutts. I can see little Rue, helpless and lifeless in my arms as I sang her into her final sleep. I can see Finnick dying in an instant; the muttation lizard slicing his head off like it was nothing. One minute he's there, the next he's gone. Prim haunts my dreams often, her laugh rings in my ears long after I've woken up.

I am so lost in my own thoughts, I don't notice that we have returned back the Victor's Village. When Peeta is finally able to grab my attention, it's because he is pointing to someone standing on my front porch.

We aren't close enough for me to make out who it is. Instinctively I reach for my bow, but then I remember Peeta has it on his shoulder.

I glance over at him. Peeta merely shakes his head at me. He doesn't have to say anything. I know what he means anyway. He's telling me that I don't need it. Somewhere deep down, I know that he's right. We don't have anyone to fear anymore. Unless it's the press, then I do need my arrow. They come around far too often for my liking. They are constantly trying to see into the life of "Panem's Hero", the "Mockingjay that Saved the Day", or into the never ending love of "Everlark", which is what Ceaser and his other hosts on Panem Tonight have so kindly dubbed us. Endearing isn't it?

I know that Peeta can chase them off. He has before. He always lets me hide when they come around. He goes to the door, lies, says I'm not here, that I'm out hunting. If they happen to catch a glimpse of me, Peeta threatens them. He has told me several times that he won't let them publicize me anymore. Hesays I've had enough of that for a lifetime, and that's the truth.

As we arrive at the steps of my house. I am instantly relieved to see that it's not the press. In the soft light of the street lamps, I can see them illuminating someone familiar. Her dark hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, her green eyes are bright, but there are large, dark black circles underneath them, surrounding them. She hasn't been sleeping. There is a bundle of blue blankets in her arms, a suitcase is sitting by her feet on the wood of the porch.

"Annie!" Peeta exclaims. He is up on the porch before I can make myself move. It's not that I'm not excited to see Annie, I am, but I can't seem to figure out why, if she has a suitcase, why there is a bundle of blankets in her arms. Had she gotten cold on the train ride over?

Peeta is looking down at the bundle in her arms. He is smiling. I knew that Peeta could be a little odd sometimes, but those are blankets for crying out loud! I'm finally on the porch with the two of them. Annie and I exchange quick hellos before she adjusts the bundle in her arms and I finally see what all of the fuss is about.

Finnick's eyes are staring back at me.


	2. Determined

A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long with Chapter Two! This Chapter is dedicated to FadedRadiance on Twitter since she wanted it so badly. :P Here you go.

Chapter Two

"Determined"

I'm so shocked by this that I stumble backwards, my eyes shut tight. I can see him now. Tall, bronze hair, golden skin, shining eyes, just like the ones I had been staring into just moments ago. Of course! I should have been expecting this. I knew that Annie was pregnant. She had called a couple of weeks ago, to let us know that she was due anytime. She would be bringing the baby by sometime soon after. Yet, when I saw Annie, when I saw the bundle of baby blankets in her arms, I couldn't make the connection. It was obviously something I had tried to make myself forget. I had done a good job apparently.

Peeta somehow made it over just in time to catch me before I fell backwards off of the porch. I don't shove him away after he steadies us. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist, burying my face into his chest. Flashes of the Rebellion run through my brain. Instead of the inside of my eyelids, Finnick's death plays out before me like a movie, like a recap of a particularly gruesome Games. I see Finnick trying as hard as he can to fight that horrible creation of the Capitol off of him, but it is to no avail. I open my eyes just as the mutt is about to slice his head off, but it still flashes before me. His head is removed from his body, and just like that, the life leaves his eyes, and he's gone.

I feel wetness on my cheeks. I bring my hearing into focus. I can hear my own sobs echoing around the Victor's Village. I sound like one of Haymitch's geese, loud annoying, crazy. Peeta's arms are around me almost instantly. I hear him say something to Annie and I hear her reply but what words that are exchanged between the both of them, I have no idea. I feel just like I had in the woods only a little bit ago, like my body is canceling out the world.

I hear the faint clicking of footsteps, the front door creaks open then slams shut. Annie has gone into the house, leaving Peeta and I standing alone, embracing each other on the porch. Peeta's hand is rubbing up and down my back; he's holding me against him. He's trying as hard as he can to calm me down, but it doesn't seem to be working. I don't think he, Annie, or even I, realized what seeing the baby would do to me; especially since it had Finnick's eyes.

I don't notice that Peeta has moved us away from the edge of the porch where the steps are until I feel myself sit and the slight swaying of the porch swing. I instantly curl my feet under me and myself against Peeta's frame like a small child that's afraid of the dark. Any resolve I had made earlier about not breaking down was gone now. Tears are still streaming down my face. If someone were to see me they would think that they were shameless, but they aren't. I hate myself for this. I'm supposed to be strong, not a sniveling mess of emotions in Peeta's arms. What has the Rebellion done to me?

"It's okay, Katniss," Peeta whispers. He has leaned over just enough so that he can whisper in my ear. He is speaking so softly, only for me to hear, gently reassuring. It means a lot that he's trying, but he doesn't know that it will be okay. He doesn't know how often that I am actually like this, and that with every tear, with every bad thought, I hate myself a little more.

I let out a sigh in reply. Peeta has slid his fingers under my chin by now. He slowly tilts my head so that I am looking at him. His blue eyes lock with mine and I feel my heart skip a beat. Peeta's hands gently cup my cheeks, and his large, warm thumbs push the tears away from my face. My heart is beating a million miles a minute. I feel as if it has forced its way into my throat. Peeta's touch hardly ever makes me feel this way. No words are exchanged between us. We simply look at each other for a long while before I notice Peeta slowly leaning in. Before I have time to actually make the connection between his movements and his intentions, his lips are on mine.

It's not until out lips touch for the first time in days, when I'm such an emotional wreck, that I realize how much I like this, need this. My arms find their way around Peeta's neck and I allow myself to return his kiss. I can tell that he is a little taken aback at first. I'm not surprised. It's a rarity that I let myself give into his affections. When Peeta gets over the initial shock, he pulls me closer to his body, his lips soft against my own. Peeta's lips feel like an escape. Everything around me disappears. The only thing I can focus on is Peeta and our connected lips. Nothing else matters in this moment.

Peeta is the first to break the kiss. I know why. He knows how I am with affection. He probably assumes that I don't want to keep kissing him, but I do. I'm not sure how to bring this up to him though, so it goes unsaid.

He gently gets up from the swing, slipping his strong arms under me and he cradles me against his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck for extra support. I know that he won't drop me. He's carried me up to my room many times without any issues, but I need to feel his closeness. I need the affection tonight. How do I ask him to stay?

"Come on, Katniss. Let's get you upstairs. I'll run you a bath."

I simply nod. A bath actually sounds nice. I know the only reason that he's suggesting it is so that while I'm cleaning up he can make me something to eat. Even when my appetite is low, on a night like tonight, I always make sure to eat in front of Peeta, just so he won't worry.

We walk into the house, the door slamming shut behind us. Annie is standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. Peeta tells her that he will be down in a minute before ascending the stairs and making the short walk to my room. He effortlessly opens the door, despite me still being cradled in his arms. He carries me across the threshold, into my bedroom and lays me down gently on the bed. I instantly curl into myself, wrapping my arms around my legs. I'm now a ball laying on the right side of my bed. Peeta has retreated to my dresser. When my gaze travels over to where he is standing. I see that he has already picked out some night clothes for me. I watch as he heads to the bathroom and disappears from my sight. I hear the creak of the faucet as he starts to fill the tub with water. The flow of the water is like a constant stream. I catch the faint scent of something flowery. It might be lavender. I guess that Peeta must have added bubbles.

Moments later, Peeta reappears in the doorway, walks over to the bed and sits down beside of me. With some coaxing on his part, and my own, he gets me to sit up and he starts to unbraid my hair. Once he gets it out, he begins to run his fingers through my hair, getting out any tangles that may linger. I close my eyes, enjoying the feeling. His hands suddenly stop stroking my hair as he gets up. He presses a soft kiss to my cheek before he walks back to the bathroom and the flow of water suddenly stops. Peeta comes back in quickly.

"All right," he says. "You're all set. I've got your towel and your night clothes laid out. Enjoy your bath. I'll make you dinner and then we can talk, okay?"

I nod slightly at this. I feel like I could cry again, but this time it's because of Peeta. What did I do to deserve him? I've done nothing but hurt him for at least three years and he's still here; still loving me, taking care of me, protecting me. I don't deserve it. I still continue to treat him badly. It's only on night like these that I allow him to be affectionate, that I to let my feelings fully show. I'm a selfish coward and he's still here.

"Thank you, Peeta," I manage to say in a strained whisper. "For everything."

I lean forward, hesitantly pressing a kiss to his lips. When I pull away a few seconds later, I see that he nothing short of surprised. I get up from the bed as quickly as I can, hurrying to the bathroom and slamming the door behind me. As I strip down to climb into the bathtub, what happened in the bedroom replay over and over again in my mind. I never been that forward with my affections for Peeta before. I never initiate it. Is this progress? Or just my emotions running high?

I stick my foot into the water, testing it. As always, Peeta has somehow managed to make it the perfect temperature. I slide my way into the tub, letting out a sigh of relief. It feels so good, that I let myself forget all of the worries that I'm having. I just close my eyes and try to relax.

I don't realize that I have dozed off until there is a loud knocking on the door, pulling me from my slumber. I must have been really relaxed to get any sleep without nightmares. The knocking sounds almost frantic. I know instantly that I must have been out for a little while. I can hear Peeta's voice.

"Katniss! Are you okay?" Peeta calls from my bedroom. "You've been in there for awhile."

"Yes!" I call back. I quickly dunk my head into the now chilled water. I resurface, scrubbing some of the soap into my hair in a quick attempt to clean it.

"Are you sure?" he asks. I can hear the worry in his voice. He is concerned. He shouldn't be. I was actually relaxing for the first time in a long time.

"I'm positive, Peeta. Give me a few minutes. I'll be right out."

I turn the tap back on and run the fresh water through my soap hair. Once I finish that. I cut the water, pull the plug and let the water train from the tub. I get out, quickly dry off and change into my night clothes before walking into the bedroom, pulling a brush through my hair.

Peeta is sitting on my bed waiting for me. The look on his face quickly changes from concern to one with a light smile. I return it. I notice that my dinner is sitting on the night stand. The smell quickly reaches my noses and seems to instantly travel to my stomach. A loud, almost powerful growl escapes from the depths of my stomach. This is the first time all evening that I have noticed how hungry that I am.

Peeta lets out a low chuckle as he hears the noise from my belly. "Here, give me the brush. I'll braid your hair and you can eat."

I raise my eyebrow tentatively, walking over to him and placing my brush into Peeta's outstretched hand. I'm not buying this comment for a minute. I will probably have to pull my hair out of knots.

"You know how to braid?"

I see a blush for on his cheeks; his blue eyes fill with embarrassment. He had asked someone to teach him. This doesn't surprise me. It is something that Peeta would do.

"Yes," he finally replies, patting the spot in front of him, indicating for me to sit there. I grab my plate from the nightstand before doing that. "When you sprained your ankle before the Quell, and you slept a lot, your mom taught me. She said that it would come in handy one day. I guess that she was right."

I pick up a roll from my plate, tearing it into two halves before bringing one half to my lips and biting into it. It's still warm. It's fluffy and buttery. I'm pulled away from enjoying my delicious bread when I hear Peeta's statement. I am shocked to say the least.

"She did? I wonder why she thought that." I muse. It's mostly to myself, but loud enough for Peeta to hear. I hope that he an offer some sort of answer.

Peeta finishes brushing out my wet hair, ridding it of any tangles and knots. He begins to separate it into sections before he starts to tie my dark, thick hair into a braid. He lets out a laugh as well.

"Simple," he says. "She told me that you wouldn't be able to hide your feelings for me forever."

I'm in shock. My mother knew before I did? I guess that I shouldn't be so surprised. If anyone knew anything about love, it was my mother.

"She said that?" I ask, almost in a whisper.

"Yeah," Peeta replies. "Everyone knew before you did, Katniss. Even me."

I don't respond to this. I simply tear into the other half of my roll. What could I say anyway? It was true. I know that.

"But that doesn't matter now," he says as he continues to gently braid my hair. "You know now."

I want to turn my head around, to see his face, to examine his facial expression, but he's not finished with my hair yet. So, I'm stuck looking forward, wondering if he actually means that.

"But I kept you waiting for so long," I say quietly. As always, when I think about how long I kept my feelings for Peeta inside, I am consumed by an overwhelming feeling of guilt. I know that I shouldn't feel this way, but after everything that I put him through, it's impossible not to.

"Katniss," he says, pulling my braid into place, tying it back, and slipping his arms around my waist, pulling me against his muscular chest. I lean on him, my need for his closeness hasn't subsided any since my bath. His chin comes down and rests on my shoulder.

"Feeling better?" he asks, whispering softly in my ear. Whatever he had been about to say before he pulled me close is forgotten now, disappearing into the air. That's okay. He was probably just going to tell me to stop feeling guilt. Some of this is an all too familiar routine by now.

I nod, my eyes closing. I feel so relaxed. It's almost as if my mood from earlier is gone completely. I want to forget about it. But I know that it won't go ignored by Peeta.

"Good," he whispers again. His grip tightens. I know why. He is savoring the time that I'm letting him be affectionate. He knows that it doesn't happen very often. I can't blame him. "Want to talk about it?"

"No," I say almost instantly. I don't want to discuss it. It will only bring my mood back. I'll talk to Annie when I wake up, apologize for the way that I acted, but I don't want to do that now. I don't want to talk to Peeta about it either. I know what talking about it now will do to me, and right now, everything feels perfect. I don't want this rare peace to be replaced by a big mess of emotions.

I hear Peeta heave a heavy sigh. He obviously wants me to discuss it. I hope that he doesn't push it.

"Katniss, you need to talk about these things. You're never going to move forward if-"

"Please not tonight," I interrupt. "I'm in such a good mood. Please don't ruin it."

Peeta nods slowly. I can tell instantly that he isn't happy about this. But, he also knows me well enough to know that nothing changes my mind. Not even him.

"Okay, Katniss. Whatever makes you happy," he whispers. His soft lips graze my cheek for a moment and the oddest combination of warmth, and the sensation of goose bumps appearing on my skin washes over me. Such a simple thing, like his lips against my skin, can make me feel so much. That terrifies me.

"You make me happy," I say before I really realize what is slipping out of my mouth. When I realize what I have said, I keep my eyes shut tight. I have no idea what emotion I am conveying or what sort of reaction that my words have evoked from Peeta.

"Do I?" his voice is so soft, so distant, that I have to strain to hear it. Disbelief.

"Yes," I reply. I shift in his grip, opening my eyes and tilting my head so that I can look at him.

I don't say things like what I just said often. I have yet to even actually say "I love you" to him. But there are some days that I'm not afraid of his love, of caring for someone, and them caring for me. This is one of those days. But I have never said something this pivotal, this out there, something that could be considered groundbreaking in our relationship. At least for me. I almost regret saying it until I see nothing but pure happiness reflected in his vivid blue eyes. I can feel my heart swell.

"You love me Katniss, real or not real?" he asks, his voice still soft, almost as if he's afraid that this is a dream and he might wake himself up if he speaks any louder.

"Real," I whisper in reply, and before I can stop myself, my lips are on his.

This kiss is shorter than the first one. I pull away first. It's not really by choice. I start to yawn and I pull away just as it escapes my lips. Peeta laughs at this.

"I guess I should go and let you get some sleep," Peeta says. He starts to remove his arms from around me and get up from the bed.

"No," I say, putting my hands on his arms to keep them around my waist. "Don't leave. Stay with me."

Even though it's not a question, more of a demand, he smiles at this. He presses a soft kiss to my cheek and whispers, "Always."

He cradles me in his arms once more, using one his hands to grab my empty plate when he stands up. He sits the plate on the dresser and walks back to my bed. He pulls the covers back before sitting down, laying the both of us down.

I curl against his frame, needing to be as close as I can. I can't not being close to him, not tonight anyway. As he pulls the covers up around us, his lips graze my forehead. My heart flutters as my eyes shut. The last thing I hear before I drift off to sleep is Peeta's whisper of, "Good night, Katniss."

The sun pooling on the bed through my window, shining directly on my face is what finally awakens me this morning. I expect to still be in Peeta's arms, but I'm nit. I sit up, frowning when I see that he is not in the bed. But that's when I see his not on the night stand. He's gone into the bakery for the day. He'll be back before dinner.

I sigh, laying back on the bed. Despite the fact that Peeta isn't beside of me this morning, I haven't felt this well rested in a long time. I didn't have any nightmares. Peeta always has been able to keep them away. I need to ask him to stay over more often. I get up from the bed, make it up, tuck Peeta's note into my pocket, slip on a jacket and head downstairs to make breakfast.

When I reach the bottom step, I hear the sizzle of bacon; the smell makes my stomach growl. Annie must be cooking. I cautiously round the corner, knowing that the baby will be in the kitchen with Annie. I'm more prepared this time, though.

"Good morning, Annie," I say as I step into the kitchen. I can see that baby sitting in his high chair out of the corner of my eye, but I don't look at him directly.

"Morning, Katniss," Annie says, offering me a smile. "Peeta said that you usually wake up around this time. I thought that I'd cook you breakfast."

I smile at this. Still the same, sweet Annie that I remember. But some of the softness in her eyes is gone, replaced by a hardness that only someone overcoming a hard adversity at a quick pace can have. I wonder briefly how she has coped with losing Finnick, but I don't ask. I know almost instantly that it is because of the baby. It's the biggest part of Finnick that she has left.

"Thank you, Annie," I say quietly. There is a loud coo from the creature in the high chair that was now behind me. I'm afraid to even look at it. I'm afraid I'll have another break down when Peeta's not here. That can't happen. "Look, about last night…"

"Don't worry about it, Katniss," Annie says. "Peeta explained everything, and I can understand why that set you off. You and Finnick…were like family. Brother and sister almost."

I nod my head solemnly. Annie is right. Finnick had been the older brother that I never had, and one of my best friends. It hurts to think about him. It hurts even more to talk about him because it's in the past tense. It really reminds me that he's not here anymore. But, my mind seems to have held onto something else that Annie said.

"What do you mean Peeta explained everything?"

What was there to explain? Peeta wasn't aware of anything, save for the occasional times I've broken down in front of him. This hasn't been often. So, what could he possibly have inferred from that?

"That you're still not recovering from the Rebellion. He says that you're not dealing with it the way that you should be," Annie says. Her gaze locks with mine for a moment before I look down at my hands.

Damn Peeta. He's a better detective than I would have bargained for.

"He doesn't even know the half of it," I say.

There's a click as Annie cuts the stove off, a soft clink as she sits the pan down on the counter, and the light patter of bare feet against the tile as she rounds the counter to sit on the bench beside of me.

"Katniss, I know how you are with your emotions, but believe me, asking for help isn't a sign of weakness. In fact, it's one of the strongest things that you can do."

I let out a dark chuckle. "That's just it, Annie. I'm not strong anymore."

And that was the truth. I may have started out my journey as a strong, independent girl, but not all I am is fragile, broken mess of the person that I used to be, and I don't have the courage to put myself back together. Forget Girl on Fire, my radiance has faded, my fire has been extinguished. Now, I'm nothing but a pile of slow, burning embers.

"That's not true, Katniss," Annie whispers. "And even if it is, it's okay to be weak sometimes. Not everyone can be strong all of the time."

I allow my gaze to dart up to meet Annie's momentarily. If anyone in this world would know how to deal with emotional trauma, it would be Annie, but like a coward, I just shook my head.

"I'm fine, Annie," I mutter. "Really. It's not that bad."

I know that as soon as I say it that she won't buy it. Peeta, Haymitch, people that I barely know, have all told me what a horrible liar that I am. It must be something about the way I express my feelings, my body language because Annie has been buying my lies on the phone for months. I love Annie, I do, but she's not like Peeta, who does whatever he can to make me happy at the moment. Annie has been in a similar situation, she isn't going to let this go so easily.

Annie flashes a small smile at me. "I knew that you had been lying to me on the phone, but I wasn't going to lecture you from Districts away."

"Lecture me? You're my friend, not my mother."

"Do you think that your mother is going to step in and help you, Katniss? Even if she wanted to, she doesn't have the means to do so. She faced the same thing that I did and look how she handled that."

"She's didn't handle it," I say.

That's when it hits me. Do I really want to end up like my mother? Dead to the world because I couldn't deal with my emotional trauma? Unable to fully love the ones that I care about because I've built up a wall to keep people out? Of course I don't. But right now. I'm not myself. I'm not Katniss Everdeen. I am someone else entirely.

When I don't respond, Annie gently pats my back. "Sometimes it takes awhile for people to come around. I won't give up until you do, you know."

I smile. Annie is one of the most determine people that I have ever met. I know this is not a false statement. I can count on Annie and the little creature that she and Finnick created together to be around for a long time. Maybe that won't be such a bad thing.

"I know, Annie. I'm glad that you're here," I say, and I am.

She gets up from the bench and rounds the counter once again. She grabs a plate she has sitting nearby and I watch as she loads it up with eggs, bacon and toast. She pours me a glass of milk and passes it over to me.

"Since you're not ready to deal with your feelings yet, do you mind if I flip on the TV to watch Panem Today? I missed Panem Tonight, and I always like to see what kind of crazy stuff Ceaser and his crew dig up."

I can't hold back at laugh at this. It kind of catches me off-guard that Annie, of all people, would be one to watch Panem Today and Tonight. Peeta and I always watch when we can because we seem to be one of their favorite subjects, even when there is nothing to report, or nothing to talk about. They seem to be fond of Johann as of late. She's not too happy about that. It's all about who they can capture at the right moment, who they can dig up dirt on. And the public is severely interested in anyone involved in the Rebellion. We're Panem's biggest celebrities.

"Of course, Annie." I slide the remote sitting next to me on the counter her way and she catches it with her hands almost effortlessly.

She picks it up, flips on the TV, and we are just in time for the show. The weirdest remix of the nation's anthem plays in the background as we hear a voice over while a montage of past episodes plays out before us. Oh, the Capitol is really playing up this new form of reality TV.

When Ceaser first appears it's a bunch of simple hello's from him and his crew, but it doesn't take them long to get started. The begin talking about one of Panem's hottest couples.

"Oh, no!" I exclaim. "Have they been following Peeta and I again?"

But when they show the picture of the couple, it's not of me and Peeta, it's of Haymitch and Effie, locked at the lips.


	3. Annie's Insight

A/N: Here is Chapter Three! I'm sorry it has taken so long! This Chapter is dedicated to FreshAsPrimrose on Twitter. I love you, Steffi! Anything in bold is Annie's POV!

Chapter Three

"Annie's Insight"

I hear a loud clanging as Annie sees the picture. The frying pan that she has been using hits the tile. The sound is almost deafening. There is a loud screech from the baby. The noise has startled him. Annie doesn't bother to pick up the pan from the floor. I watch as she rushes to the baby, pulls him from the high chair and cradles him in her arms. I don't let my eyes linger at the sight for too long, it hurts too much to see Annie with baby knowing that Finnick will never get to know his own son. I try to quickly push this though from my mind. I can't breakdown.

I am relieved with the baby stops crying almost as soon as it's in Annie's arms. Good. Now that the creature isn't screaming, Annie and I can focus on this Haymitch and Effie situation.

"Well, I guess that explains Haymitch's little trips to the Capitol," I say. I wonder why he chose to never mention this to Peeta and me. I thought that we were like family. This isn't something that you hide from people that you consider family.

Annie laughs at this statement. "You can say that again. Wow. That's the last couple I would have expected. But there is no denying that that picture is real."

She's right. I had started to wonder if it might be fake, but now I see that it's not. There is so much love radiating off the both of them. There are meshed together as if they never want to break apart. I know that I should be mad at Haymitch for hiding this from us, but I can't be. I can see how happy he is. This picture is one of the only times I have seen him relatively well-groomed. Effie must be working wonders on him. I'm glad. He needs someone to keep him in check. I noticed a long time ago that Effie was the only person that could ever do that. It's good to know that he has her.

"No denying it's real," I said. The picture disappears, but they continue to discuss it. I'm not paying attention. "I'm happy for them. I feel like they both needed someone who is the exact opposite of them. They will balance each other out. But, oh, I'm going to have gin with Haymitch when he comes home."

Annie smirks, still rocking the baby gently in her arms, despite that it stopped crying awhile ago. "You and Haymitch live to mess with each other."

I smile at her. "Finnick used to help me with that. We messed with each other too."

I've surprised myself by openly mentioning Finnick. I wonder where it came from. Was it because Annie was around? She had been talking about him openly. She made it seem so easy. I know that on the inside, it must actually be tearing her apart. Still, she must have knocked my guard down.

Annie's smile brightens at the mention of Finnick. It's good to know that she's not a mess when talking about him. I wonder if I had lost Peeta if I would be able to be so calm talking about him? But I know that I wouldn't be. If I had lost Peeta, I would have lost myself completely. I would really have next to no one.

"You meant a lot to him, you know," Annie says. "Finnick lost his mom and dad shortly after his Games. He only had Mags and me for a long time. Then you two became so close. You were the family he had lost. You were his friend, his best friend."

I can't stop the stream of tears that starts to flow down my cheeks. I nod slightly. "I know, Annie," I whisper. "He told me. He made sure I knew. Finnick was the kind of person that didn't hold anything back."

Unlike me. I wish that I could be more like Finnick was. So willing to love and be loved in return. But because I had lost all of my loved ones, and loving people has done nothing but hurt me, I am too much of a coward to let people in.

"Finnick always did let people know how he felt," Annie replies. "I was no exception."

I find that I sit up a little straighter at this comment. I never had the chance to ask Finnick exactly how he and Annie had become a couple. Maybe Annie will offer some insight now. I had always wondered exactly what it was that drew Panem's Most Eligible Bachelor to Annie Cresta, who, while beautiful, is a bit crazy and stubbron, and quiet and shy, except to those who she knew.

"Really?" I ask. "How did you and Finnick get together, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Come outside to the swing, I'll tell you."

I take a few more bites of my breakfast before following Annie outside. The sun is shining brightly overhead. The air is calm, but there is a morning crisp in the air. I am thankful that I put on my jacket this morning. Annie has already taken a seat on the swing and has begun wrapping the creature in the bundle of blue blankets she had been holding last night. The blue is a dark, crystal sort of blue. It reminds me of pictures I have seen of the ocean, Finnick's stories of District Four, of the beach during the Quarter Quell. I am thankful that the color only triggers happy memories for me. That is rare. Anything happy.

I take a seat beside of her. I keep my eyes on Annie, never looking at the baby. I can't bring myself to do it. Maybe, in time, I will be able to look at that baby without breaking down or having a flashback. Maybe someday, but that day is not today.

"I'm surprised that Finnick never told you. He liked to tell the story. But, then again, I guess that you didn't have a lot of time to discuss things like that in District Thirteen. You were almost always training."

"We did talk a lot, about so many things. I guess we just never got around to it."

Part of me wonders if Finnick just avoided talking too much about Annie. He knew that it upset me that Annie came back to him, remembered him, even loved him and Peeta didn't know me, tried to kill me, and never knew that he loved me. He knew how much that hurt. Finnick might have just been sparing my feelings. Just because we never "got around to it".

The thought instantly saddens me. "Never got around to it." I play the phrase over and over again in my head. We "never got around to it", and now we never would.

"That's too bad. Finnick always told it better than I did. I'm a little too crazy to keep the story straight."

I want to laugh. I had never thought Annie to be completely mad, just a little off, like the rest of the Victors. Now, here she is, seemingly more mentally stable than she has ever been. I haven't once since her cover her ears since she has been here. Loud noises no longer seem to make her freak out and curl into a ball. I guess that she had to learn to get rid of the screams that Finnick told me that she always heard, since he wasn't there to get rid of them anymore. It doesn't matter. This is the Annie I have become closer to, matter if she's crazy or not.

"That's not true, Annie. Don't let other people define you. You're more than that."

Annie gives me a small smile of thanks, giving her head a nod. "That means so much, Katniss. Not everyone thinks that except you, Peeta and well, Finnick never did."

"The people that care about you know the truth. That should be all that matters."

"You're right," she says. There is a slight pause as Annie seems to be saving that to memory, her eyes adverted away from me. Just as I am about to say something, she is facing me again. "All right. Ready to hear the story?"

"I've been ready for awhile actually," I reply. I pull my knees up to my chest, keeping them close to my body. I rest my chin on the perch that is my knees. My eyes are locked intently on Annie. I won't lie. I'm really excited to hear this story.

_**"Well, I won't lie. I was like nearly every other girl in Panem, completely charmed by the idea of Finnick Odair. When I was watching him in his Games, I was very impressed. Everyone was. A fourteen year old teenage dream that won the Games within a matter of days after receiving the most expensive gift in Games history? It was impossible not to be love-struck by him. I had known of him before the Games. I had noticed Finnick long before. Yes, he was devastatingly good looking, but I had never given him much thought until I saw him win. I thought he was just another pretty face. After seeing his interviews, I was sure he was a kind person, a strong person. I looked up to Finnick Odair, even if I was considered one of his 'fan girls'. When rumors began flying around a couple of years later about Finnick's rendezvous' in the Capitol, I didn't want to believe them. Finnick Odair was gorgeous, a sex symbol almost, but someone who slept around? No. It couldn't be. **_

_** After awhile, there were so many stories, reports and rumors that I knew I couldn't pretend that it wasn't true anymore. I felt heartbroken. Someone who I admired so much, had let me down. I felt silly for being so upset about it. I didn't even know Finnick Odair, and he didn't know me. But not for long. Can you guess what happened just two weeks after I had given up all faith in my role model?"**_

"You got reaped?" I say in reply. The story had only just begun, but I was already intrigued. It sounded like some twisted romance book, the kind that my mother used to read. The kind of stuff that I used to think was trash mass produced by the Capitol to plant false hope into the hearts of its citizens. Things like that didn't happen in the real world. At least, I used to think that. But Finnick and Annie, even Peeta and I, are walking contradictions of that.

Annie laughs a bit. "That's right. I was terrified."

_** "My mother was all I had left at the time I got reaped. I didn't have any friends, except for Hickory. He was the boy that got reaped with me."**_

Annie trails off for a moment. I see her eyes flicker. This was the look I used to see her get in Thirteen right before she was about to start yelling, holding her ears, throwing a fit, and breaking down completely; The kind of fit that only Finnick could ever talk her out of. But, as soon as the look is there, it's gone. I can't say that I'm not relieved. I had been paralyzed with fear for a few moments. I don't know how to handle other people when they breakdown. I can't even handle myself. I am barely able to bring Peeta out of mild hijacking attacks. What would I have done with Annie?

_** "And well," Annie continues. "We would have time to say goodbye to each other later."**_

_** Our escort led us to the train where we were to meet our mentors. District Four has had so many Victors that it was hard to tell who it was going to be. I was sitting in a chair next to Hickory, trying to keep my mind off of things, but it was impossible. I was being shipped to the Capitol where I would surely die. I jumped when the compartment door opened. It slid aside and slammed into the wall with a sounds louder than thunder. I was surprised to see Mags walk in. She was so old. I wasn't sure which Games she had won, but I'm sure it was when they were still young enough to be in the teens. I wasn't expecting her. Usually the older mentors stopped once we had other Victors to take their place. Well, much to my even greater surprise, and dismay, Finnick walked into the train car next. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed. He was in nothing but his boxer shorts. **_

I let out a laugh at this. Of course. Sounds just like Finnick. He'd probably still been asleep when the train rolled into the District, missed the reaping and Mags had to drag him out of bed to meet the Tributes. "You know, that doesn't surprise me at all."

Annie's smile grows a bit bigger. "He had a doughnut stuffed in his mouth and Mags was badgering him about eating healthier."

_** "If you don't quit eating those damn doughnuts, Finnick Odair, you're still going to have a six-pack, but it will be hidden under a mountain of fat. You have a reputation to uphold, you know."**_

_** "Mags, shut the fuck up. It's too damn early for me to be getting this lecture," Finnick said, having removed the doughnut just to say this before he shoved it back in.**_

_** Mags raised her hand and slapped Finnick across the mouth, causing his doughnut to be pushed all the way into his mouth. His eyes widened and he began to cough as he choked on the doughnut. The half-chewed mess of dough, chocolate icing and multi-colored sprinkles fell to the floor only moments later. Hickory and I were laughing so hard that Mags turned to us with a smirk, and gave us a wink before she wheeled back around to face Finnick. **_

_** "Serve you right," Mags said. "Don't you talk to me like that. I'm practically your mother. It's not my fault that you were up all night with one of your little friends from the Capitol, that's it's past two and that you slept through the reaping so I had to drag you out of bed, still in your damn underwear."**_

_** I remember that my stomach dropped at the mention of his "little friends" from the Capitol. I could deny it up to a point until now, but not hearing it from someone who claimed to be like his mother. I wasn't even sure why I cared so much. I guessed that's how all the Finnick Odair Fan Girls felt. But, I wasn't really a fan girl. I looked up to him more than I lusted for him. He always seemed to have such impeccable character on top of all that strength and bravery. I always strived to be like that, but what kind of person just sleeps around with people for the fun of it?**_

_** Finnick rolled his eyes at Mags. "Sorry, Queen of the District Four Victors! I apologize for what I did. Apparently it was deserving enough for me to choke to death on a doughnut after surviving the Hunger Games." **_

_** Mags slapped him again. Only this time it was on his arm. Her hand hit his skin with a loud SMACK that caused Finnick to emit a small 'ow'. "You need to stop hopping into bed with all of those girls, keep your pants on, and get your act together, at least for a few weeks. You've got two Tributes here to mentor."**_

_** Finnick's attention seemed to be alert for the first time His eyes feel on Hickory first. He didn't seem too impressed. Hickory was my friend, but I couldn't blame him. Hickory wasn't a Career. Hickory wasn't a killer. He didn't have big muscles, he wasn't a fisher. Hickory spent more time studying the ocean and the creatures that lived there more than anything else. He was tall, and lanky. No one expected him to win. Not even me. **_

_** I wasn't much either. I knew that. I knew that Finnick knew that almost as soon as his shining eyes locked with mine for the first time. I was even smaller then than I am now. I was a wispy girl for seventeen. I was odd too. I would rather read on the beach, collect sea shells than fish or train like the other kids my age. I wasn't fast. The only skill I had was swimming, and you wouldn't be able to guess that by looking at me. **_

_** Finnick leaned over to Mags, he appeared to be shaking his head. I know that he was trying to whisper just to her, but he misjudged my range of hearing, "I don't think that District Four will be winning this year."**_

_** As you know, I'm not usually a temperamental person, but what Finnick said really hit a nerve. He hadn't even bothered to assess our skills. He judged us based solely on our looks.**_

_** "Excuse me," I said. I was trying to stay calm, but it wasn't working. I heard my own voice. It was already raised, already shaky. "Since you're a Victor and all, I wouldn't expect you to just judge your tributes based on appearance." **_

_** Finnick's eyes widened in surprise. He clearly had not been expecting that from me. I hadn't even expected it from me. I'm usually so quiet, so shy. I had never done anything this outrageous, even if it wasn't outrageous to someone else. **_

_** "Excuse me? You have some nerve. I'm supposed to be your mentor, and you're talking to me that way?"**_

_** "That's right! You're supposed to be my mentor! You're not supposed to discourage us within the first hour of getting reaped! You're not supposed to say you don't even think that have a chance! I was wrong about you, Finnick Odair. You're nothing but a cocky, egotistical prick, and it's about time that someone told you the truth!"**_

I burst into a fit of laughter at Annie's words. "You said that?"

Annie is laughing at herself. "I did. I had never said anything like that before in my entire life. I never thought someone could grate on my nerves as much as Finnick Odair did in the first few minutes that I knew him."

I smile at her. I wasn't sure how I imagined their first meeting, but it was nothing like this. Maybe it was because I never imagine Annie acting that way. But Finnick's reaction and response? It was no surprise.

"So, what happened next?" I ask. I was almost eager to find out. How did Finnick respond to what Annie had said?

Annie grins at me, pushing herself up from the swing, her grip on the baby tightening so that she won't drop him.

"I'm not finishing the story today, Katniss," she says as she walks towards the front door. "If you want to hear the rest, you're going to have to open up to me first."


	4. Darkness and Light

A/N: I am sooooo horrible for not posting this Chapter sooner. This Chapter is dedicated to TheNovaMellark on Twitter. :D Please enjoy!

Chapter Four

"Darkness and Light"

I can't stay that I'm surprised. Annie has taken a leaf right out of Finnick's book. I think that Annie's method might work eventually, just for the sheer fact that I want to know the rest of the story. But it won't work today. I decide on a whim that I want to go into the woods. It's not necessarily to hunt, but to think.

I go into the house, practically bound up the stairs, yet still being quiet. I have used my hunter's gait for so long that it's second nature to me now. Once in my room, I slip out of my night clothes trading them for my hunting clothes. Lastly, I slip on my boots. When I do, I let out a sigh of relief. The boots are one of the only things I have left that stayed the same since before my first Games. The leather is still soft and fitted to my feet. I slide both my arms into my hunting jacket and pull it around my torso. I walk to the closet to grab my bow, shouldering it. I feel like my old self again. Even though I am far from it, this makes it easy to pretend.

I hurry down the stairs and grab my game bag that's hanging on a peg by the door. I make my way into the kitchen and start to fill the bag with some water and some cheese buns that Peeta had made within the past couple of days. I might want them later. I tell Annie that I will be back and I leave the house, practically running to the District Twelve fence. It's not forbidden to go into the woods anymore, but it's still there to keep out bears or any other creature that might wreak havoc on the District. We have seen enough destruction. We don't need that.

My hole under the fence is back. I created it again. That's how I always went into the woods and I didn't want that to change. I flatten myself out onto my belly and slide under the fence effortlessly. The scent of the earth, the smell of the breeze blowing through the trees seems to hit me at once. As I stand up, I close my eyes, just breathing in the clean air. It makes me forget everything for a moment. I feel like myself out here.

I decide, considering my breakdown last night, that it's time I made a visit to my place, the one that my father showed me so many years ago. It feels like a lifetime. Anything before the first Games does. But it's not. It was only two years ago, almost three, that everything in my life had a sick normality to it. That was back when the worse pain I could imagine was purely physical. That was back when I was a different person, when I was a stronger person instead of this wispy, see-through version of myself.

I finally open my eyes, turning my face away from the sky, where I had positioned my gaze to allow the dim rays of sunlight to warm my skin for a few moments, to look at my watch. It has just turned ten. If I make the two hour hike, I'll be there by twelve. That gives me three hours to do what I want before I have to head back to get there by five when Peeta gets off at five. If I wasn't going so far into the woods, I could stay out here longer, but I always do my best thinking when I'm at the lake. It gives me a kind of peace that no person, not even Peeta, has been able to give me. I wonder if it has something to do with my dad, if I feel like he's still around when I go there. I'm not sure, so I just shrug it off as I begin the long hike.

I try not to think too much on my way there. I eat a couple of cheese buns. They taste fresh. Peeta must have made them this morning before he went into the bakery. Peeta is always doing small things for me. Baking, leaving me dandelions, notes. I know that he wants to make me smile. He told me that if I'm going to mope around all the time, he wanted to give me at least one smile a day. So far, he's accomplished that.

I stop along the way, gather some herbs, spices, and even some strawberries. When I stop to take a rest, I spot a rabbit and I kill it to take home for dinner. Although I like the meat we can get from the butcher, hunting is still one of my favorite things to do. Besides, it's nice to have something familiar for dinner every once in awhile. Like rabbit stew.

When I finally reach the lake, the sun is at its highest peak. My body is soaked with sweat to the point where my clothes are sticking to my skin. My jacket has long since been tossed onto my shoulder, and I rolled my pants legs up as far as they would go at least an hour before.

The water is crystal clear on the top. In the shallow parts, I can see straight through the water to the bottom where I see minnows swimming around, happy as can be with no real place to go. The sun is scorching and all I can think of is diving into the cold water of the lake to cool down. I decide that's what I'm going to do. I can think as I swim.

I strip down to my undergarments and lay my clothes out to dry on a large, flat rock nearby. They are so soaked with sweat that I won't want to put them back on if they don't dry out a little.

I don't creep to the edge, dip my toe in and check the water like Peeta would probably do. I run full force towards the lake, diving right into its depths, causing a huge splash that disturbs the minnows minding their own business in the shallows.

I don't let myself float directly back to the top. I let myself linger under the water, enjoying the sensation of the cool water completely surrounding me, submerging itself into my scorching skin. When I feel like my lungs are begging for air is when I finally swim towards the top. My head breaks the surface and the sunlight is practically blinding to my eyes that have quickly become accustomed to the darkness under the water of the lake.

I lay back against the water; my body soon begins to float. I close my eyes, relaxing under the combination of the cool water, and the sun dancing against my skin.

As I lay floating, my mind is blank for awhile and when the first thought enters my head, I beg for the emptiness again. How easy it would be: to hold my breath, push myself under the water and slowly but surely let myself leave this world, get away from all the pain, all of the hurt, all of the haunting nightmares, brutal memories. Just a little effort and it could all be over. Just like that.

Panic washes over me. How can I be thinking like this? How selfish am I becoming? How could I even think it, yet alone, actually consider doing it? I could never kill myself, even if I really wanted to. I couldn't do that to Peeta. I'm pretty sure that if I did, one of two things would happen. He would either follow my shortly after, or have an attack from which he would never recover. I couldn't do that to him. I would never be able to take myself from this world knowing what it would do to Peeta if I did.

What about Annie? I'm one of the few people that she has left, just like she is to me. I don't think I could leave her here. Losing someone else she cares about could cause her to take another turn for the worst, and she has the baby to worry about.

What about Johanna? We've kept in touch too. Ever since the Rebellion she has been more willing, more open to letting people in. We have even become friends. She is still afraid to let me too close, and I'm the same way with her, but we're working on it. That's all that matters. Surely if I took my own life, Johanna would somehow bring me back to life and axe me to death for leaving.

Then there's Haymitch. I know that I am, though he refuses to ever admit that he said it, like the daughter he never had. Haymitch is the closest thing in my life I have to a parental figure anymore, my family. I can't just let him lose someone he cares for. He hasn't cared for anybody in years. Not until Peeta and I, and I guess Effie, came along.

I guess I should think about my mother too. We don't have the best relationship, but would I really want her to go through the pain of losing both of her children?

What about Gale? Would he even care? Even if he didn't, I can't help but think of him too, at least the way he used to be. He wouldn't want me to do it. He wouldn't let me.

Yes. Taking my own life would be easy, and it would be a relief for me, but it would be selfish. It could possibly be the most selfish thing I could ever do. No one living, or dead, like

Finnick, Cinna, Prim, wouldn't want me to do it. The thought of them, what it would to them if I ended it just to get rid of all that pain, is what keeps me afloat. It was the only thing that kept my from curling into myself and sinking into the deep, dark, unknown depths of the lake.

I decide that Peeta and Annie are right. Maybe opening up will be the right thing to do. Maybe it will be good for me. But I'm not going into this without a fight. I won't go into this without kicking and screaming, but I know that it's progress that I have even admitted to myself that I need to open up. I will try to talk to either Peeta or Annie tomorrow. I know that today or tonight isn't time for me to do it. I reach up above me, trying to stretch my arms a little, and I see that my hands are already wrinkled. How long have I been in the water?

I flip over from my back to my stomach so that I can swim to the edge. I walk over to where my things are sitting. I bend down and retrieve my watch from my game bag to check the time. It's already two-thirty. How had that much time already passed? It had felt like minutes, not two hours. I decide to just forget about it. Obviously I was so lost in my thoughts that I had no real concept of the time. I sit down underneath the tree beside of the little concrete house, letting the sun dry my undergarments as I eat two more of Peeta's cheese buns. Once my underclothes are dry enough to bear, I put my clothes back on, gather up my belongings and head back to District Twelve.

The walk back seems like it takes longer then the way there did. Maybe it's because I had a purpose of going into the woods and now that it was fulfilled, I really had nothing to look forward too. But it suddenly dawns on me that when I get back home, Peeta will be there. This excites me more than it usually would. Maybe last night had helped me break down some of that wall that I had built up when it came to Peeta. I can't be sure. All I know is that after this thought crosses my mind, the rest of the walk doesn't seem so long.

I arrive at the house with ten minutes left until five. I tell Annie hello before I rush up the stairs. I want to take a shower before Peeta gets home. I am in the bathroom in no time at all.

I flip on the faucet, letting the water heat up as I unbraid my hair, and strip down. I step under the streaming jets of water, not taking the time to relax underneath them. I rinse off, scrub myself down with some sort of lilac smelling soap, and vigorously scrub my hair free of any sweat or dirt. Once the soap as washed down the drain, I step out of the shower and dry off my body and my hair. I brush it out and begin to braid it back.

As I'm standing in front of the mirror, I can't help but notice the scars that cover my body. Intricate burn patterns cover my arms, my abdomen. The seams between the grafted skin, and my olive tone are very obvious. If you didn't know any better, you would think it was some skin pattern created by the Capitol. Once I pull my braid into place, I bring my hand down and trace the marks on my stomach, my sides. There was once a large gash just above my breasts. It's nothing but a long, thin scar now. My body is almost like a constant reminder of the Games, of the Rebellion. It's like some sick memory book, a timeline of not only my physical pain, but emotional as well.

I hear chatter from downstairs and I know that Peeta has arrived home. I throw on some lounge pants and an old shirt that I'm sure is Peeta's from one of the times that he's stayed here. I then head downstairs.

Peeta is in the living room, standing by the door. Annie has come to greet him. I give him a smile as I enter the room.

He is coated in a thin layer of white flour from the bakery. I know I have just showered, but I don't care. That desire to that started last night, the ones that made my long for his closeness has not diminished at all. I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his muscular torso. Peeta doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around me in return, pulling me against him. I burrow my face into his chest and I am instantly greeted by a mixture of wonderful smells. I can smell the faint tint of baker's chocolate, a blast of sugar, the soft smell of fresh bread that always lingers on his work clothes.

"Hey," he whispers softly so only I can hear. "I missed you."

I feel my heart fluttering inside of my chest. I instantly feel even guiltier for the thoughts that crossed my mind at the lake. How could I have ever considered, even for a minute, leaving him behind just to get rid of all my own pain?

"I missed you too," I whisper back. I can't be as delicate with my words as Peeta is. They come out a little louder than I would like them to. I hear Peeta give a soft chuckle before his lips lightly graze my forehead. I close my eyes at the simple

contact of his lips against my skin. It is the best thing I have felt all day, including the cold water of the lake on my scorching skin when my body felt like it was on fire. This feeling is a different kind of peace. Not just of mind, but peace of body, peace of everything really, if only for a moment, or a glimmer of one.

He pulls away slightly, his hand coming up and cupping my cheek, lifting my head so that my eyes lock with his intense blue ones. His thumb gently runs across the skin of my cheek, Goosebumps start to raise all over my body, not because I'm cold, my body is just responding to the pleasant feel of his touch. "What did you do today?" he asks softly. He doesn't talk to anyone else this way. He has a special tone that is saved for me alone.

"Well, this morning I talked to Annie for awhile. We flipped on the TV to watch Panem Today and we saw a picture of Haymitch and Effie kissing."

Peeta's thumb stops moving for a moment, his blue eyes widen in surprise. "What? Are you kidding?"

I am unable to hold in my laughter. I give my head a gentle shake. "Nope," I say in reply. "I couldn't believe it either.

But now they are considered one of Panem's Hottest Couples."

Peeta laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow. Guess we know why Haymitch has been taking his little trips to the Capitol now, don't we?"

I laugh. "That's what I said! I'm going to have so much fun with him when he gets home."

Peeta chuckles at this. "Poor Haymitch." He gives me a toothy grin. "Anything else?"

I nod slightly, smiling when I feel Peeta resume stroking my cheek with his thumb. I feel more relaxed this way. I'm not sure why. I can't explain it, not even to myself. "Yeah, I talked to Annie a bit more and when were done I decided I would go to the woods. It wasn't to hunt, even though I got a rabbit. I just wanted some time to myself to think."

He nods at this. I don't know why I continue to explain myself to him. He understands me more than anyone, sometimes even more than I understand myself. It still scares me that I have let someone this close to me. Peeta could easily hurt me, it wouldn't be that hard. There is a part of me, however, that knows he won't. There is another part that is still afraid that he will change his mind.

"Of course," he says as his arm that's still wrapped around my waist tightens a little. "Did you get your head clear? I think you needed that."

I nod. Maybe tomorrow I will be able to tell him about the horrible thoughts that had passed through my mind, but not tonight. We are both in such a good mood. I won't ruin that. We both deserve a night of peace, where neither one of us is a mess of emotions or hijacking attacks. This has ever happened in the time that we have been back in Twelve. I want to enjoy this. Maybe this is just what I need to open up to Peeta, a night with him with no problems, no attacks, where it's just us, enjoying each other's company. Maybe acting like a real couple for once instead of two emotionally broken people that need each other to make it through the day will do is some good. I feel like tonight can be a night that feels normal. Not the normal that I used to have before the Games, but the kind I have become accustomed to since the end of the Rebellion, maybe even better. I need a night like this. I'm sure that Peeta does too.

"Do you think Annie would mind if we spend tonight together, just the two of us, again?"

I shake my head. "No. At least I hope not."

It won't be the same as last night where I needed to be comforted. This will be a night fir Peeta and I to just enjoy being together. I'm sure Annie, of all people, will understand that.

"We'll ask her after dinner, okay?" Peeta whispers, his thumb still sliding across the skin of my cheek. I still feel relaxed. How can he do this to me so easily? Surely it can't be healthy. Can it even be considered a good thing?

"All right," I whisper in return. Then, he leans forward and his lips gently brush against mine, only for moment. The moment is too quick for my liking. I want to grab him, hold him there and kiss him until I couldn't anymore, but I have to remind myself that this isn't a good idea. I can do that later, after dinner.

Peeta unwraps his arm from around me and his hand leaves my cheek. I don't like the empty feeling I am left with as he gives me a smile and I watch him walk into the kitchen. I'm too dependent on him sometimes. I'm not sure how it happened either.

I know I have a little while before dinner is done, so I plop down on the couch and flip on the TV. I'm just in time to catch the end credits of some outrageous show about the lives of Capitol women and their ever-expanding wardrobes, and just in time for Panem Tonight.

As always, there is montage of past episodes while Ceaser Flickerman does the voice-over and then we see Ceaser and his crew sitting around a large table ready to discuss all the latest gossip in Panem.

First thing, they show the shot of Haymitch and Effie again. Instead of being shocked, this time I smile. I'm really happy for the both of them.

"You know, Ceaser," Claudius Templesmith says. "It's been awhile since we heard anything about Panem's favorite couple.

I snort. Yay. They are talking about me and Peeta. The press is going to be after us now. If I end up alone with them, I will punch every single one of them in the face. I've punched a press member before.

"True, true!" Aurora Downtrot chirps, a woman who is rumored to be involved with Claudius. "But ever since our dear Mockingjay punched that paparazzi member, no one has been willing to go to Twelve for a while."

"Aw! It should be an honor," Ceaser says. Always the generous one. "If I got punched in the face by Katniss Everdeen I would be bragging to all of Panem about it."

There is a laugh from everyone on the TV screen, and even one from me. An honor. Ceaser hasn't lost one bit of his humor.

"No, but in all seriousness, I must admit I'm disappointed. After everything they have been through, I would like to know how they are doing and if they're still working out."

I can't help but smile. I have to wonder if it's because of Ceaser that the press hasn't bothered us for a couple of months. If so, I will be grateful. But now, I am fully expecting the press to come knocking down our door within the next couple of days.

"Speaking of the Girl on Fire," Aurora says. "Big news about her ex stylist Cinna."

My heartbeat quickens. News about Cinna? That makes no sense. Cinna is dead.

"Well, when they were unearthing the graves of the rebels made by the Capitol to bury them properly, they didn't find Cinna's body."

Cinna's body wasn't found? But what does this mean?

"Further investigation into it, along with some questioning of the Peacekeepers involved, it was discovered that Cinna somehow managed to escape."

He escaped the Peacekeepers? How? How badly was he beaten when he escaped? Does this mean…

"We think that Cinna is alive somewhere."


	5. Opening Up Maybe

A/N: So, I know that it has been forever since I updated and I feel awful. There was a terrible storm here and I went two weeks without power, /and/ my hours at work where crazy for awhile. Anyway, here is Chapter Five, dedicated to Whitney on Twitter. :)

Chapter Five

"Opening Up…Maybe"

I shut off the TV before anything else is to be said. I'm too shocked, too confused to do anything else. Cinna might be alive? Impossible. I saw him being beaten and drug away to his death with my very eyes. Is it really possible that he had escaped? What if Cinna really is alive somewhere and has no clue that the Rebellion has ended?

I have to remind myself, that even though they try, Panem Today and Tonight don't always report stories that are true. This could be something false, something that hasn't been investigated enough. No. I won't think about this. Not until I have some solid proof. Cinna's body might not have even been thrown in with the other martyrs. Cinna was such a big part of starting the Rebellion that they might have let the mutts eat his body without giving him the burial that he deserved, but I can't let myself think about that either. I will mention it to Peeta tomorrow, wait for more information before jumping to any conclusions.

I push myself up from the couch, and walk into the kitchen. To my surprise, Peeta's not the one cooking, Annie is. Peeta is sitting in chair by the counter with Annie and Finnick's tiny baby cradled in his arms. Peeta has one of his long, large fingers stretched out to the baby. The creature's small hands are gripping onto it tightly as it giggles like Peeta's finger is the greatest toy in the world. Peeta's blue eyes are alight with joy, the smile he is wearing doesn't convey anything else. Peeta would be such a great father. I know he wants kids, but I don't think that I will ever be able to give them to him. Before, it was because of the kind of world that we lived in. I never wanted to bring children into a world where they could be plucked from me, tossed into the arena, and have their lives taken far too soon. But now, I don't know if I will ever fully recover from the Rebellion. I don't think I will ever be emotionally stable enough to bear a child. I would be a paranoid mess, constantly worrying, or, the exact opposite would happen, I wouldn't be able to love the child enough, I wouldn't care at all. I would be a horrible mother.

But it would be such a shame to deny Peeta of something that he so desperately wants, deserves even. I just don't think I could ever bring myself to do it, and that breaks my heart. I'm always hurting Peeta in some way. I'm not sure why Peeta puts up with it, especially after all of the times that I have hurt him before. If I were Peeta, I would have given up a long time ago.

"Hey," I finally manage to say.

Peeta looks up as soon as he hears my voice, his finger still being held captive by the baby, his smile brightening evn more when he sees me.

"Hey, Katniss," he says. "Have you held Little Finn yet?"

Little Finn? So the child's name is Finnick. It's fitting, considering that the baby looks just like him, but I can't believe that I hadn't even been thoughtful enough to ask Annie what the baby's name was. I really am a horrible person.

"Me? Hold the baby?" I ask, shaking my head as I do. "No, no. I couldn't. I'd drop it or something."

Peeta lets out a chuckle and the baby lets out a giggle. It has really warmed up to Peeta. It will probably hate me.

"Don't be silly, Katniss," Peeta whispers. He gets up from the chair by the counter and nods to me. "Sit down."

"Peeta, don't-"

"Katniss, this will be good for you. Sit."

I know that there is no getting out of this. If Peeta says that something is for the best, he usually gets is way. There is no talking him out of it. It's not because he's menacing. He's just persuasive, even when he's not trying to ne. I slowly walk over to him and then sit down on the chair. I hope that Peeta stays close. I don't know what I will do, especially if I see the baby's eyes again. I'm afraid I will get shocked, too caught up in my memories, the rage I still feel towards Finnick's death and accidently hurt the small creature they are about to place in my arms.

"Hold out your arms like me," Peeta tells me gently.

I want to refuse, but the look in Peeta's eyes tells me it isn't really an option to refuse. I'm starting wish that I had never left the living room, but I have to admit, this is getting my mind off of the Cinna thing. Peeta adjusts the baby in his arms when I hold out my own, and he places the tiny creature inside of them.

I'm surprised at how tiny it is, how much it weighs. It can't be more than ten pounds. Maybe not even that. I don't want to look down at it though.

The baby lets out a soft cooing noise and I feel a gentle tugging on my hair. The tiny thing has wrapped both of its hands around the tip of my braid and has made a game of pulling on it.

"Hey," I whisper. "Cut that out. That's not a toy."

The baby just giggles at this, tugging a little harder on my braid. My eyes travel down, that little grin, those eyes. He is so much like his father.

"He already enjoys annoying me, just like Finnick."

Peeta laughs at this, but I'm suddenly come over with an overwhelming sadness. Here I am, alive and well, holding Finnick Odair's child when he never got to do so himself. Finnick would never get the chance to see his son. He wasn't there when he was born, he wouldn't get to teach him to swim, take him to the beach, hear his first words, and see his first steps. Finnick was a wonderful man, and would have made an incredible father. It isn't fair that I get to hold his son when Finnick never would.

I feel tears welling up in my eyes despite my attempts to stay strong. I can feel my entire body shaking as I start to tremble. Of course. I knew that this wasn't going to be good. One tear slips down my cheek, and then another.

"Here," I mutter, handing the baby to Annie as quickly as I can. I'm afraid that I am going to fall apart completely. As soon as the baby is out of harm's way in my fragile, emotional state, safe inside of his mother's arms, I become engulfed in Peeta's. Almost instantly, my face is burrowed into his chest, and his hands are rubbing comforting paths up and down my back. He doesn't ask what's wrong, he doesn't need to. He already knows, and so does Annie.

It takes awhile for me to calm down completely. Annie puts Finn down for the night and I won't lie and say that I'm not relived. Once I am able to untangle myself from Peeta's embrace, he finishes dinner, eats quickly and runs to his house to get some things. His tooth brush and a change of clothes, I'm sure.

Once I manage to force some food down, I get up from my seat and start to help Annie with the mess. I'm hoping that this will give me the opportunity for me to ask her something that has been weighing on my mind since last night. How does she do it?

"Annie, can I ask you something?"

Annie looks up from her silent work of washing the dishes, seemingly unsurprised that this has come from me. It's almost as if she has been expecting it. She probably has. Annie is smart.

"Of course you can," Annie replies, a soft smile toying at her lips.

I nod my head, really trying to make this sound just right. It could be touchy subject for her and the last thing that I want to do is upset her.

"I just…how do you do it, Annie?"

Nice. That really wasn't the best way to say it. I guess maybe being blunt could work. It's worked for me in the past, but I'm always treading delicate waters with Annie Cresta, everyone is. Almost no one wants to disturb a calm stream, or pond when the water is still, shining, and peaceful. Sometimes, however, someone comes along and tosses something into it, causing a ring of ripples, disturbing the calmness, the stillness hidden underneath. What if my question was a pebble in Annie's calm water?

My question doesn't seem to faze Annie at all. She simply stops what she's doing, removing her hands from the depths of soapy water that is pooled in the sink. She starts to wipe her hands on a nearby rag as she begins to speak.

"I used to wonder that myself. How I was going to do it. From the moment I found out Finnick was gone, it really tore me apart. I didn't feel like there was any point in moving one, then, I discovered that I was pregnant. Everyone else was apologizing, telling me what a tragedy that it was, but I didn't see it that way. It was a blessing. I would always have a piece of the man I loved with me, something that we created together.

The first time I set my eyes on Finnick Junior, I thought the same thing. How am I going to do this? But then, that tiny baby in my arms opened its eyes, just like his father's and I knew, I knew that I could do it.

At first, when I looked into my son's eyes, it was hard. I sometimes expected to see the same ones looking back at me in the morning, but I never did. Eventually, I learned that it was a good thing. Every time I feel hopeless, like I can't go on, I look at my son, see so much of Finnick in him, and it gives me the strength to go on. Not just for me, for Finn, for Finnick, for you, for everyone that relies on me."

I would have never expected all of that to come from Annie, so positive. Her strength and determination astounds me. "Wow," I manage to mutter. "That's such a great way to look at it."

"Exactly. So do what I do, every time you look at Finn, just think of Finnick in a positive way. Think of a happy memory you have with him. It really helps."

Annie would know better than anyone. I decide to try that next time. I take a deep breath, deciding that it's time for a change of subject.

"So," I finally manage to say. "Peeta and I didn't get the chance to ask earlier, but would you mind if we spent the evening together, just the two of us?"

Annie laughs lightly, giving me a knowing smile. "Peeta already asked," she says. "He was so excited that I don't think that he could wait."

I shouldn't be surprised. Of course Peeta was excited about this. I'm hardly ever in one of my affectionate moods. Who knows when it will end and when Peeta will get to enjoy it again? I hate that I am so selfish in this way, shying away from his affection, but it's just how I am.

"You know," I say to Annie. "I'm excited too."

I'm not sure what has brought on my mood, or why I have been so prone to even initiating things lately, but I find that I am actually enjoying it, either that, or my subconscious is helping me pretend that I am. Regardless, I'm glad I am, so Peeta can enjoy it too.

"Peeta was afraid that you wouldn't be," Annie mutters. "He says that you're not usually this affectionate with him."

"I'm not," I reply quickly. "I don't know. Every now and then, I get this way."

Annie gives me another one of her knowing smiles. "Maybe you're just opening up a little."

I could deny it, argue that it wasn't true, but what use would it be? She's probably right. It actually scares me, terrifies me beyond belief. It's an irrational fear, I know, especially after everything I have been through, but it doesn't make it any less real. So, instead of arguing, I give Annie a shrug of the shoulders.

"Maybe," I say, and before she has time to say anything else I add, "Good night, Annie."

She simply shakes her head at my impulsiveness as she bids me goodnight while I ascend the stairs. I let myself into my bedroom, and climb into bed to wait for Peeta. I prop my pillows up against the headboard and lay back against them. I am only taking a moment to relax; Peeta will be here in a few minutes.

I am not mistaken. Maybe five minutes later, I hear the shutting of a door and footsteps in the hall before Peeta comes through my door. He is holding a duffle bag in his hands, dressed in lounge pants and a t-shirt, his blonde hair is slightly disheveled, still damp from his shower. I honestly think my heart skips a beat. He sits his bag down, slips off his shoes, and gives me a bright smile.

"Hey," he says as he shuts the door.

"Hey," I mutter back as my eyes follow him as he makes the short journey to my bed. He climbs in beside of me, slips under the covers and almost faster than I can think, his arms around me and I'm being pulled against his frame. I feel myself relax almost instantly.

"This is all I've wanted to do all day," he whispers to me. He has buried his nose in my hair, his lips just inches from my ear; his hot breath is tickling my neck. All things that would usually make me want to pull away, retreat to my own side of the bed and try to fall asleep until I eventually made my way back into his arms. But not tonight. For once, I don't shy away from it, I relish in it.

"Is it?" I ask softly, not sure how to respond to this statement. I rest my hands on his broad arms. My eyes travel down to look at them, and I see the scars that I know are there. I start to use one of my fingers to trace the intricate patterns that they seem to have formed, my simple affection in return. Peeta's breath hitches at the first feel of contact. He had not been expecting it. All the better.

"Yes," he replies, his blue eyes fluttering closed as I continue to trace light patterns on his skin. His grip around me tightens a bit, causing a small, almost miniscule smile to form on my lips. Even though I don't always like the affection, it's always sweet. Peeta always lets it be known how much he cares for me, with words or actions. "I love holding you like this. That way, I know you're safe."

I feel my heart flutter. He knows exactly how to tug on my heartstrings without even really trying. But that's Peeta. He says what he feels, and it usually makes everyone around him happy. He's really too good for me. I'm sure he would disagree.

"And I'm not safe anywhere else? I can take care of myself," I say, still dragging my fingers across the damaged and scarred skin of his arms.

"Not as safe as you are here," he whispers in that special tone he only uses on me. "I won't ever let anything bad happen to you again, you know that right?"

I have been fixated on the patterns on Peeta's arms up until this point. When I hear these words come from his mouth, I look up at him, seeing that his crystal blue eyes are already watching me. My grey eyes lock with his and I feel my heart beat quicken. I know that. I do, but hearing it is different than just knowing. It feels like a promise. It feel secure. It makes me feel safer than I already feel.

"I know, Peeta," I whisper, not adverting my gaze from his. "I know that you'll protect me if there is anything that tries to hurt me. But guess what? We don't have a lot to worry about anymore."

"You never know," Peeta whispers. He slips one arm from around my waist, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. He must know that I like it when he does this, because he has taken to doing it nearly every chance that he gets. As his thumb starts to glide over the skin of my cheek, he starts to speak again. "Anything could happen, Katniss. I just want to make sure. I've already lost you too many times before. I'm not taking that risk again."

For some reason, these words cause a blush to cascade itself across my cheeks, for me to look away. Why am I so shy, so afraid when it comes to things like this? Practical confessions of love. Peeta just chuckles at this, his fingers slipping beneath my chin as he gently tilts my head up so that I'm looking at him again.

"What did you look away for?" he asks in a whisper. There is a beautiful glint of happiness and amusement in his eyes.

I simply shrug. "I don't know why I looked away. I had a shy moment I guess," I say, my eyes locked with his again, my cheeks still flushed red. I lean in a little closer, allowing my nose to brush his gently, the pull away again, keeping our gaze.

He smiles at me. "I like it when you're like this. I feel like you're not repulsed by me."

I'm taken aback by Peeta's words. He thinks that I'm repulsed by him? I'm anything but. It might appear that way because of the way I act, but I'm not. "I'm not repulsed by you, Peeta," I say in a whisper. I can tell by the tone in my own voice, that the shock has registered itself there.

"Sometimes I feel like you are, but then I remember. I remember who you are, and what you've been through. I can wait for you to come around. I still get to hold you like this every now and then. It's better than nothing. More than I ever imagined I would have with you. I've waited my whole life for you, what's a little while longer going to hurt?"

I am silent. I don't know how to respond to this with words, so I do the only thing that I can do, I lean forward and press my lips to his. This isn't like the kisses we have shared during the past couple of days. Kisses of comfort, reassurances. This kiss is purely for pleasure, just to exchange our emotions in way other than words, because, like I've said, I'm really no good when it comes to words.

Peeta's hand slips from my cheek and slide carefully down my side before he snakes it around my waist, pressing it against the small of my back. My body instantly moves closer and before I know it, I'm pressed up against him. I can hear my own heartbeat, erotic and out of control as Peeta's soft, warm lips move gracefully against my own. I can feel Peeta's heartbeat where out chests are pressed together. His heart is just as fast, if not faster than my own, but I realize quickly that it's not faster; it's beating with mine in almost perfect sync. I slip my arms around Peeta's neck, trying to stay as close as I can.

I am nearly overwhelmed by the feeling of Peeta's lips against mine. There is a rhythm that Peeta and I always find when we're kissing. Our lips are almost in a dance with each other's. I can move my lips and Peeta knows just the way to move his in return. My lips are tingling with pleasure. It's almost like sparks are spreading from our kiss, throughout my entire body. It's an amazing feeling.

I'm not sure how long our lips are locked together, but eventually, I feel like my lungs are screaming for air. I reluctantly pull away from our kiss, my breathing heavy, coming in short huffs; my lips are slightly swollen from kissing for so long. I am taking long, deep breaths trying to even out my breathing. I look at Peeta. His blue eyes are filled with nothing but pure love and desire, his cheeks are flushed pink, his lips are slightly puffy, and his blonde hair is a bit more disheveled than when we first arrived. I guess my hands had somehow traveled into his hair when I wasn't pay attention. I had been so lost in the kiss, that I hadn't been aware of what I was doing. This always seems to be the case.

Peeta brings his hand up and he runs his thumb gently across my swollen lips before pressing a light kiss there. As soon as it's over, I crave another.

"That was amazing," he whispers, almost in awe.

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out but a loud, drawn out yawn. Peeta chuckles at this and positions himself so when he pulls me to him, I am practically on top of him, my head on his chest, listening to the still rapid beating of his heart.

We lay awake in silence for awhile, his hand gently rubbing my back, me using my finger to draw patterns on his chest until finally, I am unable to keep my eyes open. I let the sound of Peeta's heartbeat put me to sleep.

I don't have any nightmares tonight. Instead, I dream that I'm in the woods. I'm running. I've been running for a long time. I can tell that I'm tired, my legs hurt, my throat is sore from calling out a name that I am unable to make out. Whoever it is that I'm searching for, I've been looking for a long time.

When I finally find the person that I'm looking for, it is by the small, concrete house by the lake that my father used to take me to when I was younger. I fling my arms around the person, and I embrace them with everything that I've got. I am muttering how much I miss them, over and over again. As if I can't say it enough. But, it's the last person I expected. It's not Peeta, Annie, Prim, or even Finnick or Cinna that I'm embracing.

It's Gale.


End file.
